


The Pages Between: Drabbles & Prompt Fills

by Simplicity_Writes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic, Star Wars: The Old Republic (Games)
Genre: Children, F/M, Family, Friendship, Marriage, crew - Freeform, prompts, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7817929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simplicity_Writes/pseuds/Simplicity_Writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place for me to post the drabbles and prompt fills that feature my characters from The Pages Between--but aren't a part of that story directly. These will feature the same universe, characters, and are just additional material from the story--not apart from it. Hope that makes sense...so yes, for example--the children in the first drabble are the same children in The Pages Between. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt Fill: “I don’t want to get up, you’re comfy”

In the process of reediting this one.


	2. Prompt: Who pays this time?

> Prompt:
> 
> If your OCs all went out to eat together, how do they determine who pays? Does everyone pay individually? Do they play rock-paper-scissors and the loser pays?     

* * *

“You got it last time, I’ll get it this time,” Torian’s voice was slurred, his movements sloppy when he slapped Raeyn’s hand away as she reached for the console to pay for their drinks.

The noise that Raeyn made was not only very unladylike, it was also a well issued challenge. It wasn’t exactly out of place in their environment. They had followed a tip about the Emperor to this tiny, isolated planet in the the outer rim called some name or another that she was positive could only be translated loosely into “the planet who surpassed being the arm pit of hell to being the virulent sexually transmitted disease that was eventually going to make your genitalia fall off”–she still called it hell, because that’s what it felt like.

The ground was prickly but burning hot, the air was stagnant, and this tiny cantina they’d landed in smelled like death and frankly, ass–which explained why the only people in there were her crew and the surly bartender that looked like he was an escaped convict.

She glanced over at Skadge who was still sitting in her chair, leaned back, pouting because Raeyn wouldn’t let her actually drink the putrid liquid the bartender was trying to pass off as non-lethal. She had insisted she could drink _anything_. Raeyn wasn’t interested in trying to figure out how to get the gigantic Houk back to the ship as dead weight–either from passing out or more likely, actually dying. She pitched a holy fit–it was like having a four hundred pound toddler who only knew three words.

Raeyn had taken everyone’s glasses and pushed them into the center of the table absolutely forbidding them from drinking it when she saw the colors it was emitting. They’d waited two hours for the contact to show up. After one hour Gault produced a flask of Halmad Prime and passed it around. She declined, not interested in clouding her senses on this planet, but didn’t mind the others imbibing a bit.

She should have stipulated exactly what “a bit” actually was.

The next hour was an odd mixture of wound up intensity from the oppressive nature of the planet and a slowly swaying degrading conversation about the virtue of  lightsabers versus blasters. She’d paid them little mind but turned back to the conversation when Torian had slapped his hand down on the table, his words slurring as he yelled, “Screw all of you! NEITHER!”

He had stood up then, his cathar staff whoosing to life, the bright glow lighting up the table where everyone leaned away from the harsh light, shading their eyes.

“Frack,” Gault yelled, “put that thing away before you put your eye out, Kid!”

Thanks to Gault’s liquid spirits, she had went from having one toddler to contend with to four–reaching over to tap the control on the side of the staff to turn it off, twisting her hand, pulling Torian’s backward as she disarmed him easily, his eyes taking far too long to move from Gault to her where his expression changed like watching in slow motion from anger to surprise.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, she demanded, pointing to the chair behind him, “Sit!”

Torian’s face moved through several emotions before he plopped down into the chair, his arms crossed, huffing while returning his glare to Gault.

“The contact isn’t coming…we’re leaving,” she had reached over to grab the console to pay the tab, when Torian’s hand slapped hers.

They had now spent at least six minutes of her trying to get the console pad from him, and him playing keep away from her. He currently had her head in the palm of his hand, holding the console above his head, his hand holding her away from him as she was trying to push through to tackle him. She was emitting a horrible screeching sound, completely frustrated that he could still present such a challenge while inebriated. She was just moving to sweep his legs out from under him…

They both froze when they heard the blaster power up and then fire. Raeyn jerked straight, turning to look at the table where Skadge was holding Gault’s blaster. Torian’s hand was still in the same position as if her head was still there. She slapped his hand down as she twisted around to see that the bartender was slumped over the top of the bar, clearly shot dead.

“Holy Hutt balls!” She screamed, leaning over to slam her hands on the table, her eyes blazing as she spoke to Skadge, “What have I told you about killing people when we are on a mission!?”

Skadge tossed the blaster over to Gault who had his arms up in the air, looked around still trying to figure out how Skadge had divested him of the weapon and managed to use it before he even noticed it was missing.

“Took care of the tab,” Skadge responded, raising her shoulders in a whatever kind of gesture and then stood up to leave, “Was tired of the argument.”

With that, she reached over grabbing one of the forbidden glasses and swallowing the liquid before Raeyn could stop her. Skadge’s already deformed face wretched into a horrible expression and she gagged. Raeyn decided if she dropped dead she was leaving her right there.

“It was just to pay the bill! It wasn’t worth killing someone over,” Raeyn scowled, “I don’t underst…”

“The kid is right,” Skadge interrupted her, loudly, pointing at Torian, “vibrosword wins.”

_She isn’t even talking about the tab? She was worried about the weapon argument!_

Gault scoffed, “You just used _my blaster_ to kill the bartender, you idiot!”

Skadge turned to Gault–her face close to his, Gault’s twisting up as the smell of her breath washed over him, “You’re close enough I can use _my weapon_ of choice.”

Skadge swayed then, her shoulders slumping, and her hand slapped onto the table to hold herself steady.

“I’m not carrying her back,” Gault said, standing up and kicking the chair backwards, turning to walk out of the cantina.

The others began to move, Torian stepped forward to grab Mako’s elbow when she started to sway. Raeyn had her hands on her hips, shaking her head, frustrated, “I guess we’ll mark this planet off of our list of places we’re able to visit again.”

Torian’s eyes flashed to hers, a smirk slowly spreading on his face, “Why would we want to come back?”

“Point taken,” Raeyn gestured forward so they would exit the cantina. The motley group began moving, shuffling, mumbling and grumbling.

Raeyn watched them move, her mind flickering between how much she wanted to kill them all and how much she enjoyed them and their antics.

_Who am I kidding? They’re mine._

* * *

Just something I wrote cause I was entertained by the idea! <3 Enjoy!


	3. Prompt: Song: "Somebody to Love" by Queen

 

 

>  
> 
> **FER8GIRL ASKED:**
> 
> **Oooh!! How about 'Somebody to Love' by Queen... your choice of couples ^,^**   
> 

>  

 

> **EEP! Okay, so I did this haha It is about Nikolaes, Raeyn’s younger brother who has appeared in multiple chapters and his soulbond. I am not sure about any triggers here, but there is a bit of violence in it. Oh, and did I mention…VECTOR HYLLUS in the chapter ha YES!**

* * *

 

Nickolaes closed the door to the fresher…leaning back onto it—his hands running across his face, and then into his hair, his eyes clenched closed. He was pretty sure he was going insane.

He’d spent the evening with a lovely little Twi’lek named Zandria—and by lovely, he actually meant they had spent five hours exploring all of the ways to make her say his name…loudly and frequently.

In the moment, he enjoyed it. It was good, hell, it was amazing, who was he kidding. He was exceptionally gifted in his “people” skills which made him an asset with SIS—but more importantly it made him a god in the bedroom…or kitchen counter…or wall. Wherever. Everywhere.

He’d made it his mission to draw out the experience, a feeling in the pit of his stomach that was gnawing at him even before they had stumbled their way to her bedroom. And once his mind had left the focus of pleasing her and being pleased it was like a million tons of feelings landed on him in one second.

He’d jerked straight up, sending Zandria flying sideways on the floor. He apologized to her, standing up quickly—his eyes searching for his clothes. Following the trail of his belongings—gathering them, undoubtedly looking like a lunatic as he frantically crawled around butt naked to find his socks.

_Frakking hell…I am losing my mind._

He couldn’t stop the sensations running through him. He threw on his clothing as quickly as he could. Zandria had sat up, watching him quizzically—curious but not really feeling especially worried about whatever he was doing. She of course didn’t even know his real name…just that he was gorgeous, persuasive, sexy, and promised to make her feel every pleasure her body could produce, and many that only the force could entice. She was intrigued of course, and didn’t actually believe him. She’d thought he’d been talking big.

She watched him pull his pants on, sad that his beautiful body was being covered bit by bit.

“Heading out then?” She asked. There was no accusation in the question—no condemnation—she knew what this was, she knew what they were doing here. She didn’t bring him home with any illusions and he never promised her anything other than the fact that her body would do exquisite things under his command. Indeed, it had…at least twelve times. He was nothing if not thorough.

“Yes,” he didn’t stop moving, his hands grabbing his shirt and stretching to put it on. She sighed wistfully as his abdomen was covered, feeling like she was saying goodbye to an old friend.

“I…” he stood there, fully dressed and ready to leave and he felt so strange, so…wrong…what the hell? He wanted to _apologize_ to this woman.

_FRACK._

“I’m sorry to leave like this, you were a won..”

“What are you apologizing for?” she interrupted him, her eyes narrowed, unsure of what was happening here, “I got what I wanted, and I hope you can say you got what you wanted?”

Nikolaes stood stone still, his breath caught in his throat.

“I mean, that’s what it was all about,” she stood up, his eyes drifted over her body, taut, firm, breath taking, but his breath was stilled not because of her beauty—but because as he looked at her, he saw a child. A woman, but still, so young, a child to him in so many ways, and before this moment he’d only seen a vessel to give and receive pleasure. It was unique that he even knew her name. Generally, he didn’t even care to ask.

_I am the most horrible person in the universe._

He lifted himself off of the door, stepping forward to the sink, his hands resting on the edges holding himself steady. He reached and turned the water on, splashing his face, then stopped in his tracks when his eyes saw his reflection in the mirror.

_Who are you?_

He was filled with such rage and self-loathing as he saw the picture of what others saw in him, what he suddenly could see in himself.

His hand flashed forward into the mirror, smashing it, glass splintering and then shattering as it fell forward into the sink and across the adjacent floor.

_Bastard._

He felt dirty. He’d never felt dirty before, ever, not for any of the things he’d ever done, not for anything, and he had done some arguably questionable morale and ethical things—always with consent of course, but not necessarily behavior that was acceptable in common society.

He’d always been unapologetic. He didn’t care. He just _felt_ , the pleasure being his only goal. He’d chased it all over the galaxy. He found it in every corner of the universe. In every variety of gender, or species, or form or matter. He didn’t really care one way or the other. He lived to feel, to feel and to give feelings to others.

He’d built his life around it, and now he hated himself. Something was shifting inside of himself and he wanted it to stop. He was happy with himself, with the way he was, with who he was.

_Liar._

He turned, stomping to the shower, turning it on all the way hot, frantically stepping into the scorching hot water, not even removing his clothes. The burn on his skin feeling as if it was melting away the disgusting, ugly, dark parts of who he was.

He jumped when someone knocked on the door.

“Agent?” Vector called out through the door, “We heard glass break.”

Nikolaes wanted to lie…wanted to say whatever it would be that could make Vector leave him, make everyone leave him…he didn’t deserve any of them, not their friendship, not their loyalty, not their concern.

He opened his mouth intent on saying he was fine, but the words would not come. He’d lied so much—this was second nature to him. You say yes when you have to say yes, you say no when you have to say no. What you want, what you need, those are irrelevant. You have an obligation to do, and you damn well do it. You take your pleasure where you can find it and you make sure it doesn’t have any strings with it because strings get you killed, or get them killed.

The feeling that had been building up inside of him blossomed into an overwhelming pain, an ache deep within his soul.

He crumpled into the floor of the shower, his entire body buckling over as his first tears were washed through the water raining over his head.

_Crying. Not something you do._

Except he did. Jagged, wrenching sobs welled up through his body as he cried out from the pain.

He heard banging on the door, and then suddenly it burst open. He knew Vector was there without opening his eyes. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look up. He was so numb, the pain had passed and now there was just…nothingness. He was so alone. Vector was there now, but he wouldn’t be. He wouldn’t always be. He had a tether an eventually his tether would take him away from here.

All of them had tethers, he’d asked Raeyn and she had told him they all had them, beautiful light bright tethers that were maps to their other part, and to him, they were all just paths to stealing them away from him.

He’d be alone. He’d decided. This was what he wanted, damn it. He always knew he wanted this. He didn’t want to be beholden to some mystical force that would declare someone his match.

_Hell no._

He wanted to do things his way, and that day when he realized he’d found his soulbond, he ran. He ran as fast as he could, and he nearly died from the pain, but he damn well persevered through it, because he wasn’t good enough for her. He wasn’t good enough for anyone.

He was only good alone.

“Don’t touch me!” He screamed when Vector touched him, realizing the water was no longer burning his skin, “Don’t you…go away…leave me!”

He knew Vector was still standing there, he reached out to push his legs away, “Go!  Get out of here!”

Vector swayed but did not move, would not be moved, “Agent, we would stay if you would allow it.”

“I don’t want you to stay! I do not allow it! Get out!”

“We have respectfully changed our mind. It does not matter if you would allow us to stay, we will stay.”

At this Vector’s feet moved slowly, sliding shards of glass out of the way, a towel landing on the floor at his feet to protect him from the glass as he sat on the floor beside the shower entrance.

“Damn you, Vector!” Nikolaes wanted to be mad but the words held little fury, little emotion…what kind of man was he that his own crew didn’t even listen when he told them to go.

He jumped when Vector took his hand, his eyes wide as he looked over at him. Vector held his hand firmly, then without a word, drew it forward to rest on his knee as he pressed a clean towel onto the open gashes dripping blood on Nikolaes’ knuckles from hitting the mirror.

Nikolaes watched Vector as he tended to him. He was a good man. He was a good role model he realized suddenly, he should have been paying attention to the right things.

“We would help if we could, Agent,” Vector’s voice was sincere, it always was, “We do not think this is something of that nature, is it? We feel your relays spiking with depth of feeling. Not something we can help with at all.”

Nikolaes shook his head, words failing him.

“We should apologize to you,” Vector pressed hard onto his knuckles then looked at Nikolaes before speaking again, “We once overheard you speaking to your sister. It was not our intention to do so, and we have long regretted it. That is to say…we know more than you would like us to know.”

Nikolaes’ eyes narrowed as he tried to imagine what he was referring to. He was a pretty straightforward, blunt, and openly honest person. He didn’t actually pretend or put on about much in his world, and you got what you saw…

“We know about your soulbond, Agent,” Vector’s voice sounded apologetic, and Nickolaes’ breath caught in his throat.

“We have watched the bright clash of eons of winding delineations bring forth effusing light filled synapsis, we have savored the taste, the distinct flavor, the hive has experienced through the mind, and we cannot understand why you would deny yourself of this experience?”

Nikolaes shook his head, trying to pull his hand away, but Vector held it fast, “She is not the right girl, I don’t give a damn what the kriffing tether says. I know myself, and I know better than some archaic superstition would ever try to say about me…especially about what is best for _her_!”

“We see,” Vector lifted the towel, pressing it back down when the wounds continued to bleed, “We do not mean to be meddlesome, Agent, but what is the rationalization which makes her the ‘wrong’ girl?”

“Shut the hell up, Vector,” Nikolaes was furious, he was so angry suddenly, all of the sad, empty parts filling up with anger, “You don’t know anything about it! You just shut up!”

“Of course, Agent, we did not mean to offend.”

As quickly as the anger had risen it was gone. He was completely out of his mind, obviously. He pressed his head back into the wall of the shower, desperate to feel like himself instead of this lost person sitting in his damn shower fully clothed with one of his crew members holding his hand.

_Fracking hell._

“She’s pure. She’s innocent. She is so soft—gentle natured—she acts like she isn’t but she is—I can read her, I read her the moment I saw her…and YES, damn it, there was a part of me that wanted her more than I could ever say, but she was just so…. _GOOD_. Something I have _never_ been, I just couldn’t taint her life with the likes of _me.”_

He took a deep breath, “She deserves someone as good as she is, as righteous…someone who will compliment her gentle nature, who will see the world the way she sees it, not darken it. I can’t bring anything positive to her… _that’s_ why she’s not the right girl.”

The room fell silent and stayed that way for a long time, his head resting on the wall, eyes closed, just trying to stop thinking.

Vector’s voice was soft when he spoke again, “When you scorned the tether—you denied her the privilege to make that distinction herself.”

Nikolaes jerked his head up, looking pointedly at Vector.

“We heard your sister say this to you. Perhaps not in those words, but we understood her meaning well.”

Nikolaes nodded his head, bumping it back into the wall again before closing his eyes, hoping if he just ignored Vector he’d eventually go away.

Vector sat still, considering how to say what he desired to share, not wanting to push away his friend. Nikolaes had nearly fallen asleep when his voice issued the softest of words, “Agent, we think you are misguided.”

“Go to bed, Vector.”

“We have seen more than you could even begin to fathom, Agent. We have held our collective hearts as worlds have taken their first breath—the galaxy shuddering through the birthing pains and then relaxing into the ethereal oneness of acceptance. We have seen worlds snap and pop with the last throes of existence, descending into the rayless deep places where the luminous fluorescent plummets into naught. Civilizations that crushed promises of the avowed, who challenged what was fortuitous potential, and the ones that endure still today as small vestiges of a memory that was forfeit to the constant radiation buzzing efficacy that fosters our worlds now.”

“We have seen your own Mother, Agent. We have seen the others, the lights and the darks and the forces that we cannot explain or give a name to—we worked with them, bonding with their people. We stand in humbled wonderment of all of we have observed, and we yearn with great passion to learn and grow indefinitely.”

Vector shook his head; certain his point was lost. Nikolaes remained still, his eyes closed.

“We just need to tell you, we have seen these ‘tethers’. We have watched. Across all of time, and space, and worlds, and boundaries that so many will never fully comprehend—and in all of that, in all of the ways we could observe, measure, and come to determine whether the soulbond is real or not—we have to say to you—it is.”

“It is real. It is what it is. Agent, we have never seen anyone who walked away find true happiness. We worry about you breaking the tether. We do not believe there is recovery after that.”

Nikolaes slowly lifted his head off of the wall, his mind having seized on the truth of what Vector was sharing immediately. He could doubt most, but Vector and his connection to the nest—that was something beyond stories and legends. The facts were still alive in their mind, never to fade.

“I did not break it, Vector.”

Vector smiled broadly, “The divinity of the elysian dances through the sparks of your tenacity. We do not pretend to know how your soul has endured the grief of such a fate.”

Nikolaes raised his eyebrow.

“That is to say, we admire your willingness to endure the pain that keeping the bond must require of you. Especially, when you are sometimes subjected to being around the recipient of your tether. We did not know you had protected the bond.”

“We are proud of you, Agent. And if we may be so bold, we would say to you that you are deserving of someone who will love you. As you are, without need of change or otherwise reinventing yourself. We believe in what we have observed that the tether takes into account what you need.”

“That is to say, it does not generally err to the match being destructive. We believe you are deserving of such a love.”

Nikolaes turned his head, his voice laced with sincerity, “Thank you, Vector.”

Vector nodded curtly, “We live to serve you, Agent.”

Nikolaes studied Vector then, smiling as he spoke the next words, knowingly, “Would that you were at the end of my tether.”

The musing statement did not startle Vector his response quick, “We would have surely been honored to be a part of your life in such a way, Agent. We, however, know that our tether leads elsewhere, and would prefer to not complicate the sanctity of that future by exploring outside of it. Though we will admit truthfully that we are drawn to you on a level that is unique to us. We do not have an explanation for it.”

Nikolaes laughed lightly, enjoying how seriously Vector took everything, “I wasn’t actually propositioning you, Vector, you do know that?”

“We dared not to guess, Agent.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, you are a very handsome, quite attractive man, and you know very well that have no issues with going dow…”

“Agent,” Vector interrupted him, “We understand your teasing now. We are not offended, and we have sensed your attraction before. We are quite used to it. We evoke strong responses in most. Generally, either very positive or violently negative. We are honored by your response.”

Vector glanced down, lifting the towel to check on the cuts. He found them red and angry, but no longer actively bleeding.

“You should go to the medbay and put kolto on these, Agent, to help this heal better.”

Nikolaes nodded, absently, “I will do that later.”

“May we inquire what is more important than your health?”

“I need to call my sister…I need to t…to…”

“Discuss your soulbond?”

“Yes.”

“We are satisfied then. I will ensure you are not disturbed.”

“Thank you, Vector, really.”

“You are welcome, Agent.”

“Niko.”

…

“You are welcome, Niko.”

Vector smiled as he walked away, happy that he was able to help his Ag…his friend. He could hear Nikolaes hailing his sister.

“Raeyn, we need to talk about the tether…I think I was wrong.”

“Don’t lecture me, Sissy, I need your help!”

“Fine, you have five minutes but after that I am hanging up. Go!”

Vector actually laughed out loud when he heard Raeyn talking as fast as she could to reprimand her brother—making the most of her five minutes.

* * *

 


	4. Revision: Prompt: Who pays this time? (added Blizz!)

> **ANONYMOUS ASKED:**
> 
> where was Blizz during the drinking scene you wrote I missed him

>  

> Well…I didn’t really consider Blizz being there for some reason, which is bad because I generally am pretty good about him being a part of their activities, but now that you mentioned it I can’t help but share what he was doing!
> 
> Here you go!

* * *

> Prompt:
> 
> If your OCs all went out to eat together, how do they determine who pays? Does everyone pay individually? Do they play rock-paper-scissors and the loser pays?

* * *

“You got it last time, I’ll get it this time,” Torian’s voice was slurred, his movements sloppy when he slapped Raeyn’s hand away as she reached for the console to pay for their drinks. 

The noise that Raeyn made was not only very unladylike, it was also a well issued challenge. It wasn’t exactly out of place in their environment. They had followed a tip about the Emperor to this tiny, isolated planet in the the outer rim called some name or another that she was positive could only be translated loosely into “the planet who surpassed being the arm pit of hell to being the virulent sexually transmitted disease that was eventually going to make your genitalia fall off”–she still called it hell, because that’s what it felt like.

The ground was prickly but burning hot, the air was stagnant, and this tiny cantina they’d landed in smelled like death and frankly, ass–which explained why the only people in there were her crew and the surly bartender that looked like he was an escaped convict.

She glanced over at Skadge who was still sitting in her chair, leaned back, pouting because Raeyn wouldn’t let her actually drink the putrid liquid the bartender was trying to pass off as non-lethal. She had insisted she could drink _anything_. Raeyn wasn’t interested in trying to figure out how to get the gigantic Houk back to the ship as dead weight–either from passing out or more likely, actually dying. She pitched a holy fit–it was like having a four hundred pound toddler who only knew three words.

_Speaking of toddlers…where the heck did Blizz get off to?_

Raeyn had turned this way and that trying to see if Blizz was somewhere in the area, she didn’t see him which was something that should probably alarm her, given the fact that the normal routine when he disappeared generally ended up with her having to apologize profusely to someone for something he had disassembled and then in his excitement tried to tell them why what he was creating from the now defunct parts was far superior to what the parts made originally. It was a subtle art—and most people couldn’t speak Jawaese—so it was completely lost on them!

She didn’t have time to look for Blizz at the moment, as she had taken everyone’s glasses and pushed them into the center of the table absolutely forbidding them from drinking it when she saw the colors it was emitting. They’d now waited two hours for the contact to show up. After the first hour Gault produced a flask of Halmad Prime and passed it around. She declined, not interested in clouding her senses on this planet, but didn’t mind the others imbibing a bit.

She should have stipulated exactly what “a bit” actually was.

The next hour was an odd mixture of wound up intensity from the oppressive nature of the planet and a slowly swaying degrading conversation about the virtue of lightsabers versus blasters. She’d paid them little mind but turned back to the conversation when Torian had slapped his hand down on the table, his words slurring as he yelled, “Screw all of you! NEITHER!”

He had stood up then, his cathar staff whoosing to life, the bright glow lighting up the table where everyone leaned away from the harsh light, shading their eyes.

“Frack,” Gault yelled, “put that thing away before you put your eye out, Kid!”

Thanks to Gault’s liquid spirits, she had went from having one toddler to contend with to four–reaching over to tap the control on the side of the staff to turn it off, twisting her hand, pulling Torian’s backward as she disarmed him easily, his eyes taking far too long to move from Gault to her where his expression changed like watching in slow motion from anger to surprise.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, she demanded, pointing to the chair behind him, “Sit!”

Torian’s face moved through several emotions before he plopped down into the chair, his arms crossed, huffing while returning his glare to Gault.

“The contact isn’t coming…we’re leaving,” she had reached over to grab the console to pay the tab, when Torian’s hand slapped hers.

They had now spent at least six minutes of her trying to get the console pad from him, and him playing keep away from her. He currently had her head in the palm of his hand, holding the console above his head, his hand holding her away from him as she was trying to push through to tackle him. She was emitting a horrible screeching sound, completely frustrated that he could still present such a challenge while inebriated. She was just moving to sweep his legs out from under him…

They both froze when they heard the blaster power up and then fire. Raeyn jerked straight, turning to look at the table where Skadge was holding Gault’s blaster. Torian’s hand was still in the same position as if her head was still there. She slapped his hand down as she twisted around to see that the bartender was slumped over the top of the bar, clearly shot dead.

“Holy Hutt balls!” She screamed, leaning over to slam her hands on the table, her eyes blazing as she spoke to Skadge, “What have I told you about killing people when we are on a mission!?”

Skadge tossed the blaster over to Gault who had his arms up in the air, looking around still trying to figure out how Skadge had divested him of the weapon and managed to use it before he even noticed it was missing.

“Took care of the tab,” Skadge responded, raising her shoulders in a whatever kind of gesture and then stood up to leave, “Was tired of the argument.”

With that, she reached over grabbing one of the forbidden glasses and swallowing the liquid before Raeyn could stop her. Skadge’s already deformed face wretched into a horrible expression and she gagged. Raeyn decided if she dropped dead she was leaving her right there.

“It was just to pay the bill! It wasn’t worth killing someone over,” Raeyn scowled, “I don’t underst…”

“The kid is right,” Skadge interrupted her, loudly, pointing at Torian, “vibrosword wins.”

“NOT a kid!” Torian shouted.

_She isn’t even talking about the tab? She was worried about the weapon argument!_

Gault scoffed, “You just used  _my blaster_  to kill the bartender, you idiot!”

Skadge turned to Gault–her face close to his, Gault’s twisting up as the smell of her breath washed over him, “You’re close enough I can use  _my weapon_ of choice.”

Skadge swayed then, her shoulders slumping, and her hand slapped onto the table to hold herself steady.

“I’m not carrying her back,” Gault said, standing up and kicking the chair backwards, turning to walk out of the cantina. Skadge grunted her face scrunched up as if she was offended muttering something about not needing help to walk, while she swayed, stumbled and generally walked exactly  like a drunk Houk would out of the cantina.

Raeyn heard an odd noise from across the room that sounded like a high pitched whirring sound. She turned to look to the counter, but just saw the now deceased bar owner and nothing else. She didn’t have time to investigate and instead turned back to her crew gesturing her hands for them to get moving.

She jumped when someone grabbed her hand—turning to look down at Blizz who was frantically pulling on her hand, gesturing for her to lean down to him so he could speak privately to her.

She leaned down—yet, Blizz spoke in his normal voice at normal loudness—so she pulled back a bit, turning to look into his shadowed face as he spoke impossibly faster than he normally did—his words running together.

“Boss, Boss—Blizz thinks we need to go back to ship now. Please?”

“What’d you do Blizz?”

He shrugged, but then when Raeyn gave him what could only be described as a “Mom look” he rushed to speak, “Blizz wasn’t doing anything at all, just looking at the machine. It was a new machine and Blizz had never seen anything like this machine before so Blizz just wanted to see it.”

“Go on.”

“Blizz couldn’t see how it works from the outside so some of the screws had to be removed for better seeing. Blizz couldn’t have known that the machine would go boom, boom.”

Raeyn tried to understand, the high pitched sound getting louder, “Blizz, what machine where?”

He turned and pointed past where the dead bartender was sprawled on the counter, “There Boss, just like Blizz said, new machine, Blizz just wanted to see how it works, but now it wants to go boom.”

Raeyn’s eyes widened when they landed on the machine making the noise, small tendrils of smoke now rising up from the removed panel. She didn’t know much about how spirits were made, but she was guessing the machine was some kind of distillery that was undoubtably going to blow them all up momentarily.

“Timetogo!”

She grabbed Torian’s arm and lifted him from the seat he had slumped into, his voice whiny when he responded, “Heeeeyyyyy…” as if he was offended by being man handled. She pushed him toward the door—he leaned over to take Mako’s elbow when she started to sway. Raeyn gave them a few gentle nudges to get them out the door.

They were nearly back to the ship when they heard the explosion, turning to look back as a huge plume of dark black smoke was rising into the air from where they had just departed.

Raeyn had her hands on her hips, shaking her head, frustrated, “I guess we’ll mark this planet off of our list of places we’re able to visit again.”

Torian’s eyes flashed to hers, a smirk slowly spreading on his face, “Why would we want to come back?”

“Point taken,” Raeyn gestured forward so they could board the ship. The motley group began moving, shuffling, mumbling and grumbling.

Raeyn watched them move, her mind flickering between how much she wanted to kill them all and how much she enjoyed them and their antics.

_Who am I kidding? They’re mine._


End file.
